


Oh and you'll lie, with your strange and fitting purpose

by heryellowcup



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Fun, Guilt, Heartbreak, Hurt/Comfort, Kara and Lena are stupid and love each other very much, Lena Luthor Finds Out Kara Danvers is Supergirl, Lena Luthor Needs a Hug, Lena Luthor always blames herself, Pining, Regret, also, and, it's totally gonna be alright and they're all gonna be fine, seriously though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-23 09:43:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14931855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heryellowcup/pseuds/heryellowcup
Summary: It’s a piece of red cape sticking out of Kara’s blue flannel and Lena suddenly feels stupid. Feels hurt, feels deceived.Or, Lena finds out Kara is Supergirl, finds out that the only person she truly trusted has broken said trust. She turns to alcohol, locks herself in her apartment for days, perhaps even weeks, then deals with the aftermath. When Supergirl then gets hit by kryptonite in the process of saving her, Lena feels like she has to overthink her previous stance on the whole situation, finally stops blaming herself.





	Oh and you'll lie, with your strange and fitting purpose

**Author's Note:**

> I highly recommend listening to Straight Razor by Matt Maeson while reading this. It's kind of perfect for this one-shot, really. 
> 
> //Oh and I'll try to convince myself I'm worth it, oh and you'll lie, with your strange and fitting purpose.// 
> 
> All mistakes are mine. Enjoy!

It all starts because Kara’s not careful enough. It’s one little mistake that ruins it all, though, in retrospect, they both realize that it actually started long before that. It started with the two of them meeting, with Kara deciding that she’s not going to tell Lena, that she’s going to keep secrets from the woman who is soon to become her best friend. Lena still doesn’t know why she never told her in the first place, wonders if it’s because she’s a Luthor, if perhaps Kara never trusted her enough, never completely.

It stings, to think about it that way, to realize that even Kara never saw her as more than her last name, never saw how much she fought to be better than her family, better than Lilian, better than Lex.

She supposes it doesn’t matter anymore, supposes that it’s too late anyways.

It’s a piece of red cape sticking out of Kara’s blue flannel and Lena suddenly feels stupid. Feels hurt, feels deceived.

Surprisingly, she’s not really surprised at all.

There are no tears, the corners of her lips don’t fall, her eyes don’t give away what she’s feeling. Because all Lena experiences in that moment is emptiness and she’s not sure there’s a facial expression that comes even close to expressing the numb and dull sting that washes over her. It’s impossible to explain, how her heart drops, how she’s not sure whether it’s speeding up or going to stop altogether. There’s nothing she can say to Kara, either. There are no words to describe what Kara has done to her, it’s so complex that Lena can’t even understand it herself, can’t feel the extent of Kara’s actions, not in that moment, at least. It’s too much all at once and all Lena knows for sure is that it’s wrong, that she has to get out of there as soon as possible. All Lena knows for sure is that she never wants to see Kara again, if possible. And that thought alone hurts more than anything Kara could have possibly done to her.

She still wonders why Kara hadn’t been more careful that day, wonders if she’d still be lying to her if she had been. She wonders whether Kara just couldn’t have been bothered enough, whether she didn’t care enough, didn’t realize how much she’s been hurting Lena all this time.

She doesn’t think she wants an answer to that, doesn’t think she even wants to know the truth, and so she leaves. She turns around and leaves, is almost gone by the time Kara realizes what happened.

“Lena, wait!!” Kara sounds desperate and Lena almost stops dead in her tracks, wants to. Almost. She keeps walking instead, doesn’t look back.

Kara is supergirl, Kara is faster than her, inhumanly fast. Lena knows she could catch up with her easily, sighs in what almost comes close to relief when she doesn’t, let’s her leave instead.

She doesn’t let herself feel anything until she gets home, until she enters her apartment and slams the door shut behind her. The sound, her own force and anger almost make her break down, almost make her cry. She grabs a bottle of scotch and a glass instead, for the first time in a while, clenches her jaw but doesn’t even grimace other than that after she’s downed the whole glass. She drinks straight out of the bottle after that, her mind getting foggier by the second, her eyes heavy, her throat dry. All she can do is lie there and stare at the wall, ignore how much the alcohol burns, relishes in the pain instead. It’s nice, feeling something.

She laughs loudly, then. She doesn’t know if it’s the alcohol, but suddenly all she can do is laugh at herself, her own stupidity. She’s bitter, tears welling in her eyes for the first time when she realizes that she doesn’t blame Kara, blames herself instead.

She knows she shouldn’t have trusted Kara. Not Kara, not anyone.

It was a mistake and she has to live with it now, has to deal with the aftermath of her own, love-ridden actions. She almost scoffs at her own thoughts. Love. As if she was able to truly feel something like that.

She’s come close to it, at least, she thinks as she remembers meeting Kara. She remembers that bright smile of hers, ocean blue eyes, and how they had managed to make her feel so whole from the very beginning. She remembers how warm Kara had made her feel, how comfortable she had been around her, how incredibly at peace the blonde had been able to make her feel. With that sweet composure of hers, she had slowly lured Lena into her trap. And Lena had walked right into it, willingly, with a huge smile on her face, like a fool.

She remembers feeling numb, feeling like she wasn’t worth it, feeling like she’d never get to be happy, like she didn’t deserve it. Like she never would. But then Kara had slowly entered her life, had broken down her walls, had convinced her of the opposite, convinced her that she was worthy of every single one of her tight hugs she always wants to lose herself in. And of course Supergirl had been there for her, too, had saved her life more than once. Kara had. Kara had saved her life, had managed to make her feel so drawn to both the hero and the sweet human behind it, without knowing it.

She smiles sadly when she remembers how pure attraction and hopefulness had turned into friendship, had turned into hand holding and movie nights, had turned into cuddling on the couch and shy smiles, had turned into soft kisses on her cheek, the soft caressing of fingers against her stomach and so, so much trust. And she knows she would have let Kara take it so much further, would have let her do anything. She had been so blinded by her own feelings, the flood of warmth rushing over her whenever the woman smiled at her.

She was a Luthor, she was supposed to be smart. Instead, she had let an alien corrupt her.

Lena lets out a loud scream when she slams the bottle against the wall, glass breaking, scotch spilling everywhere. She doesn’t care, hates herself for being mad at Kara, knows that she shouldn’t.

She’s intoxicated, can barely form a coherent thought, but she knows that it’s her fault. She’s a Luthor. It always is.

//

Lena doesn’t leave her house for days.

She doesn’t eat either, instead keeps pondering over her own thoughts, keeps trying to figure out why she’d been that easy to manipulate, why she’d let herself fall for someone like Kara, someone so bright and happy and perfect, someone she was inevitably going to destroy with her own darkness. And she had, had ruined it all. She hadn’t been the one lying, but she had let Kara lie to her, had trusted after everything, everyone, in her life had told her not to ever do that again. It was her own fault.

She keeps reaching for the scotch bottle as well. Wine, then. And soon everything else she can find in her house. She doesn’t care anymore, is done being classy.

She wants to punish herself when she considers putting on Kara’s hoodie, the one she left there after one of their many movie nights. The thought alone makes her hate herself, makes her realize how desperate and pathetic she is, still pining after her. And so she drinks some more wine instead and, in her drunken state, puts on the hoodie anyways. It smells painfully like Kara, still, smells sweet, smells of flowers, smells of everything that Lena isn’t, everything that she doesn’t deserve. 

Lena is used to this, is used to people breaking her trust, people wanting to kill her, people deceiving her, all kinds of things. She’s a Luthor. She’s used to being mistreated, used to the trauma, used to hate.

Though she feels it’s different this time. It’s different because she hasn’t seen it coming, has been truly happy for the first time ever since Lex turned bad. She loves him, still, just like she still cares about Kara. It’s needless to say she hasn’t expected it coming though, would have never been able to believe that Kara of all people would be the one to break her. It’s not surprising that she turns to alcohol again, for the first time in what feels like ages. She’s always had addictive tendencies, horrible coping mechanisms, but locking herself up in her apartment for days, doing nothing but drinking and wallowing in self-doubt seems bad, even for her. It’s unhealthy and she knows it, but she doesn’t know how to deal with this, doesn’t know how to deal with anything when Kara’s not there to help, when she’s the reason for all of her problems.

The calls started coming in on day one, right after she left. Kara, of course, calling her to apologize. It’s what Lena assumes, at least. It’s not like she’s actually picked up, still doesn’t even when they’re still coming in on day four. Messages, too. Ones that she doesn’t read. Kara’s name on her phone is enough to make her drink another glass, punch the wall in anger. There are some from Alex, too, some calls from Sam, from Jess, but she ignores them all. She can’t talk to anyone, feels too weak, feels like at least Alex has betrayed her as well, in a way. And she knows the auburn-haired woman is on Kara’s side, doesn’t trust her to be objective. It’s not fair to think about Alex that way, but it’s all her intoxicated mind manages to do. She hasn’t been able to see clearly for days.

Her ringtone eventually starts to drive her crazy.

It’s a reminder of Kara, every sound her phones makes remembering her that she doesn’t have any friends, never truly had. That she doesn’t have anyone, that she lost the one person she truly cared about, that truly cared about her. The one person that had supposedly seen through her walls.

It gets too much after another bottle of red wine, her favorite, the one that usually cheers her up, turns her into a babbling and giddy mess next to Kara on the couch, the one that now finally makes her cry, makes her scream at her phone that it needs to ‘shut up’, makes her throw it out of her kitchen window.

And it’s finally silent after that, gives her the ability to breathe properly, between tears and sobs. There’s no more regret ringing in her ears whenever one of her ‘friends’ call. It’s just her and her thoughts.

That is until they start knocking on her door. Because of course they’d try to visit her, try to talk to her. She supposes it’s just Kara first, doesn’t even think about answering the door, facing her. She retreats to her bedroom instead, buries her face in her pillow and cries until the blonde leaves again, until the knocks stop and she knows she’s just missed another chance of fixing things.

And it keeps happening, day after day. Lena gets up late in the day, when it’s already almost dark outside again, drinks a glass of wine instead of having breakfast, binges on some toast later on, flushes it down with all the scotch she can find. And then someone will knock on her door, Kara. She never opens, cries, manages to take a shower, sometimes, slumps down on her couch with another bottle of wine and a tv show that she used to watch with Kara. She doesn’t take her hoodie off once, basks in the blonde’s smell, still, one that has long been overshadowed by the penetrant reek of alcohol and vomit.

It all changes when, one day, it definitely isn’t Kara that knocks on her door. It’s Alex. Lena knows because she’s asking for her, yelling at her.

“I know you’re in there Lena, open the door!!” Alex’s voice is persistent, yet calm and gentle and caring. It reminds Lena too much of Kara and she isn’t brave enough to actually open the door.

“I’m alone. Kara’s not here with me. Please, Lena, let me in.”

Of course that changes things. Lena doesn’t want to open the door, not sure she’ll even manage to get up from her couch, but, glancing at herself in the mirror, spotting the concern in Alex’s voice, she realizes that perhaps she needs help. She doesn’t want it, not from Alex. And it’s ironic, but what actually drives her to open the door is realizing how well the agent had kept her sister’s secret, makes her hope that perhaps she’ll do the same for her. It’s fooling, trusting a Danvers again, but Lena fears that she doesn’t have anything to lose at this point.

Still, when she opens the door, it’s with anger. It’s forceful even though she only opens it enough for Alex to see her face, but apparently that’s enough for the other woman to see how horrible she’s doing, the whispered ‘Lena’ laced with so much concern. Lena tries to glare at her nonetheless, tries to stay strong, tells her to leave.

Alex is stronger, pushes the door open when Lena keeps telling her to leave, that she’s alright, that she doesn’t want to see anyone. And so Lena can’t do anything but watch her enter her apartment, widen her eyes as she looks around and takes in the mess that the CEO’s living space now is. There’s trash on the tables and empty bottles as well, broken ones on the floor, food that should have been discarded days ago. It looks like she hasn’t opened her blinds in days (she hasn’t), the whole apartment smelling of every terrible thing that has been consuming Lena ever since that one day.

Lena’s still yelling at Alex, a mixture between ‘Just fucking leave’s and ‘Really, I don’t need your help’s. She expects the auburn-haired woman to be disgusted, to turn around and do as she was told.

Instead, she sighs, opens her arms and draws Lena into a tight hug.

“Oh, Lena…” she whispers once said woman finally stops struggling and lets Alex hold her, succumbs to the warmth she hasn’t felt in days. And she feels so fragile, all of the sudden, feels the need to scream and cry. And so she does, the latter. She cries, finally, lets it all out in sobs for what feels like hours, doesn’t stop when Alex pulls her to the couch, strokes her hair tenderly. The sweet gesture seems to make it worse, almost, and Lena feels like she’s going to lose it. She’s falling into a hole, feels the emptiness rush over her, and she’s so sick of fighting it. So sick of pretending that she’s strong. “Hey, I’m here… you’re okay. I promise, you’re going to be okay.”

Lena doesn’t believe Alex’s words, but they’re soothing nonetheless and when she stops crying after a while, when her breathing finally evens out again, Alex is still there, looking at her not with disgust or pity, but worry and lovingness instead. She wants to help. And maybe, Lena realizes, she has to let her.

//

It’s hours later that Lena finally feels ready to talk and she’s surprised that Alex hasn’t left yet, that she’s so patient.

“I’m not mad at her…” Lena whispers all of the sudden, breaks the silence they’d been relishing and, at the same time, dreading for hours, just sitting there and waiting for Lena to feel like she can breathe again. Alex, of course, had tried to get her to drink some water, to eat some actual food, to take a shower. But in the end, all Lena had needed was time to get comfortable with the idea of opening up to Kara’s sister. The two of them had never been that close, but Lena supposes that she’s the only person that might be able to help her now.

Alex nods, softly, looks down at Lena who’s staring at the wall, not daring to look her in the eyes. “But you’re disappointed?”

Lena shrugs, hasn’t made up her mind about how exactly she feels, hasn’t found the strength to actually think about it. Her voice is still hoarse and oh so quiet when she speaks, broken. “I think- I think I’m disappointed in myself more than anything.”

This seems to catch Alex by surprise and she frowns when she asks “yourself? You haven’t done anything wrong, Lena.”

Lena just scoffs at that, suddenly laughs loudly, pitifully. “I’m a Luthor, I think that’s enough to hate myself.”

Alex tries, tries really hard to convince her otherwise, tries to find out why Lena’s really blaming herself, but the dark-haired woman shuts off again, tries to push Alex away, tries to find another bottle of scotch. She ignores Alex telling her that she really shouldn’t drink, her blood boiling when the other woman tries to pull the bottle away from her.

She starts sobbing, again, when all of its contents spill on her hoodie instead. Kara’s hoodie.

And it takes Alex a bit too long to realize what’s going on, to realize why Lena won’t just take it off. It takes a bit too long for her to realize that the item of clothing seems oddly familiar. “That’s Kara’s, isn’t it?”

Lena doesn’t confirm nor deny it, glares at Alex instead. “You should leave.”

“Lena, I’m not leaving you alone like this, you need hel-“

Something inside Lena snaps, all of the sudden, seems to realize that perhaps this was a bad idea after all. It starts with Kara’s now dirty hoodie and ends with the fact that the woman in front of her let all of this happen. She knows it’s not Alex’s fault, has never been her fault. It had been Kara’s secret to tell, but in the midst of things Lena realizes that it’s a lot easier to be mad at Alex than at someone she loves as much as she does Kara. It’s not fair, it’s selfish, but she’s a Luthor.

“I don’t need help,” she scoffs again, “especially not from you.”

Lena can tell that the words are getting to Alex, can tell she’s repressing her anger, and somehow, in a sick way, that makes her feel a lot better already.

“Kara never meant to h-“

Tears start welling in Lena’s eyes as she interrupts Alex, shakes her head weakly. “Don’t.”

Alex nods, understands that the subject is too sensitive, still, but she still wants to help nonetheless, reaches for Lena’s arm and sighs when the other woman winces and flinches away. “Lena, please, tell me what I can do to help.”

It’s a simple question, the answer coming to Lena immediately. “Leave.” And she clenches her jaw when Alex doesn’t move. “I’m serious, leave. I’ll be alright.”

Somehow Alex seems to realize that there’s no room for arguing, not this time anyways. “Promise you’ll call or text me if things get worse? If you need help?”

Lena nods, knowing fully well that she won’t, before she practically pushes Alex out of her apartment, immediately breaks down again.

//

Lena doesn’t like to admit, doesn’t want to admit that Alex’s words actually had an impact on her, that the other woman actually helped, made her feel a little less alone. And Lena doesn’t call or text, not even when things get worse again, but she does drink less, tries to actually eat every now and then. She’s not ready to leave her apartment yet, lets Jess know that she won’t go to work for at least a few more days, but she’s trying, she is.

Apparently Jess talks to Alex, because just a few hours later she and Sam turn up on Lena’s doorstep. She is surprised herself when she realizes that perhaps she’s a little relieved. The two of them being there gives her a reason to compose herself, to at least act like she’s doing better.

She’s not wearing Kara’s hoodie anymore, has put her hair into a ponytail, even cleaned her apartment a little. It’s not enough to convince Alex that she’s actually doing better, but it lets a small smile form on the woman’s lips as she pulls her into a hug, just before Sam does the same.

And Lena feels stupid, again, but for another reason this time. Because she realizes that Kara’s not all she had this entire time, realizes that she’s not alone, that she has other friends who she can apparently count on even when she’s being as uncooperative as she is, even when she’s doing as terrible and isn’t even sure whether she wants to get better.

“We have an idea,” Sam starts as soon as she walks into the apartment. She’s painfully enthusiastic, acting like nothing is wrong, and Lena thinks that maybe this is what she needs, at least for a few hours. To feel like she’s not a burden, not someone who fails at everything she does. “I’m gonna move in with you.”

“W-what?” Even for Sam, this is a little much, takes Lena off guard.

She misses the scolding look Alex shoots Sam, the auburn-haired woman sitting down next to her on the couch. Her approach is a lot more careful. “She’s right, Lena, but hear us out first. You can’t stay here alone. You… you have a problem and you need help. And we all know you’re too proud and too strong to seek out that help on your own. So, Sam’s gonna stay with you for a while.”

“Oh, so she’s gonna be my babysitter?” Lena raises her eyebrows, obviously rejecting the idea. It’s ridiculous.

“She’s not your babysitter. She’s just living with you. You know, friends do that sometimes. You’ll be less alone, have someone there with you when you feel bad.” Neither Alex nor Sam mention that yes, Sam is supposed to take on a babysitter role, to make sure Lena doesn’t drink too much, doesn’t hurt herself in whatever way. It’s easier to convince Lena if they don’t disclose that information with her, they think.

“What about Ruby?” Lena asks and they can both see the guilt settle in her expression. She doesn’t want to impose, doesn’t want to make their life harder just because she fucked up. She knows they’re right, knows she can’t be alone all this time, but she doesn’t want to make it harder for them, too. She can deal with it on her own if she has to.

“She’s staying with Alex and,” Sam hesitates for a second, afraid to say the name out loud, but Lena rolls her eyes and finishes the sentence for her. “Kara.”

“Yeah,” Alex nods, places a gentle hand on Lena’s arm. “It’s okay, really, the girl’s gonna enjoy hanging out with her aunts for a while, I promise.”

And so Lena says yes, after a while, reluctantly. Turns out Sam and Alex can be really convincing.

And she almost feels better, like she’s made the right decision, when she watches tv shows with Sam that night, eating popcorn and acting like the past weeks hadn’t happened at all, like they were just two friends enjoying a night in. Lena doesn’t necessarily trust Sam, deep down thinks that trusting her is a terrible idea, doesn’t trust her at all, but she still doesn’t have the guts to grab a bottle of scotch, not with Sam there, doesn’t want to disappoint, and so she falls asleep sober for the first time in days, perhaps even weeks.

//

It’s weird waking up before noon, knowing that she’s not alone, but it’s strangely comforting, knowing the angry and disappointed looks she’ll get thrown her way if she decides to grab a bottle of wine.

She still does, sometimes, but it’s easier with Sam there. She doesn’t feel as alone anymore, looks forward to getting up in the morning. It’s a weird feeling, slowly getting better, but she finally welcomes it. She tries not to think of Kara too much, tries to work from home and ignore the scotch under her bed, the few bottles she had hidden there before Sam threw the rest into the garbage or gave them to other people.

Lena still has bad days, of course, but she hates the look on Sam’s face when she gets home to find her nursing on alcohol again, and so she manages to stop altogether, after a while. For now, at least.

She decides to go back to work, too, the last few weeks suddenly feeling like she’s been overreacting, like her feelings hadn’t been valid. And she hates herself for losing herself like that, for losing control like that, now tries to be even more professional to make up for it. She’s scared, that first day, knows she might cross paths with Kara, but she knows she can just turn around and leave again if it gets too much, knows Sam and Alex will be there for her if she can’t stand it, if she feels like she needs to go back to her unhealthy coping mechanisms.

Despite the fact that her friends had tried so hard, she hadn’t talked about Kara, hadn’t once told them how she really feels about the girl having broken her trust like that, how she still blames herself instead. She doesn’t want them to know, doesn’t want them to convince her otherwise.

She’s not surprised to find that people are staring at her when she walks into CatCo, though she knows she looks put together, looks relatively happy, knows that alone will stop the rumors from spreading even more. She’s fine. To everyone else, at least, and it gives her back some sort of confidence, to know that she’s still being respected, that after all she still has something, is still the owner of two companies, still everyone’s boss.

Kara’s, too.

It feels like a punch to her gut when she sees her, feels like she might forget how to breathe. She can feel herself spiraling as soon as she lays eyes on her, but tries to compose herself, tries to control her own breathing, tries not to cry when the blonde smiles shyly at her before immediately looking away again. She knows how much she’s hurt Lena, knows the exact reason of why she’s been away for that long, and Lena supposes it’s probably all that’s holding her back from walking up to her and apologizing profusely, knowing how truly miserable she’s been.

She supposes Alex talked to her, too, telling her to give her time. And Lena appreciates it, doesn’t know how she’d act with Kara talking to her, is scared she’d give in and accept the apology. She’s never been able to resist that bright smile of hers, the smile that had lured her in and then destroyed her slowly.

It’s hard to focus on work after that, hard to focus on anything but that damn smile and those damn blue eyes she now has to admit she’s missed. She feels pathetic, thinking about it that way, thinking that way about the one person that has deceived her so terribly, that had never truly cared about her. She decides she doesn’t ever want to talk to her, doesn’t want to face her, not sure what she’d do. That quick glance from across had been enough to make her crave another bottle of wine and she doesn’t think she could handle it. She tries not to think about how badly Kara must have been hurting, too, doesn’t want to imagine Kara being anything but her bubbly and beautiful self. She wants her to be just that, even when she’s not ever going to be in her life anymore, even though she might not deserve it. Lena decides she’ll take all of the blame if it makes Kara smile, no matter how destructive it is.

//

Sam lives with her for another few weeks until they all feel like she’s ready to be alone again. She hasn’t reached for the bottle in a while, not even on bad days, not even on days where she’d seen Kara a tad too often for her own liking.

Not even when said girl starts to send her flowers.

She knows they’re from her. She’s the only person who’d send her plumerias and the only person to be bold enough to do just that after everything that had happened.

There’s a new bouquet on her desk every day, some of them completely anonymous, some of them containing little notes. Some ‘I’m sorry’s, some ‘I hope you’re doing better’s.

Seeing them stings and so she throws them away, all of them, soon tells Jess to not leave them there anymore, no matter how much Kara begs. She can’t stand seeing them, their smell reminding her too much of Kara, reminding her of hugs and whispered promises. She can’t stand thinking of those, can’t stand thinking about how much Kara had once meant to her, how she had trusted her to keep said promises. It was foolish.

And it’s foolish, the way she’s ignoring Kara, like they’re in fifth grade. Like they’re little kids who can’t communicate.

Lena’s not usually like that, is strong and confronting, but it’s different with Kara. She realizes that she’d go to great lengths to avoid the other girl, looks away whenever their eyes meet, as if blue oceans were going to pull her in, were going to let her down. It’s too great of a risk.

And so she doesn’t even look at her when she starts going to their game nights again.

It takes a great deal of convincing from both Alex and Sam until she finally says yes, both of them arguing that she needs to go out more, that she can be friends with all of them even if she doesn’t talk to Kara, that she doesn’t have to talk to her, that they can be in the same room without spiraling, without crying or losing their mind. Lena thinks it’s unlikely, but she’ll try if it makes them happy, and if it’s just to prove them wrong.

And so to game night she goes.

It’s interesting to see how they interact with each other, how they manage to avoid each other even in such a small space, how the others keep studying them as well, knowing exactly what had happened, wondering when the two will finally talk to each other, trying not to intervene when all they do is ignore each other instead. Well, Lena’s ignoring. Kara, however, is trying to be close to Lena, sits down next to her during monopoly and tries to stop her bottom lip from quivering when Lena doesn’t even do as much as look at her, shifts away instead. She keeps glancing at her, too, keeps smiling shyly, her head ducked, trying everything to get Lena’s attention.

Lena doesn’t give it to her, doesn’t give in, even though she wants to so desperately, wants game nights to be the same again. They’re still fun, still make her feel warm all over, but it’s not the same without Kara as her teammate, it’s not the same when there’s this unspoken tension between the two of them, one that neither of them is brave enough to address.

Lena almost feels compelled to drink a few too many glasses of wine that night and she almost cries when Kara is the one to tell her to slow down, the whole room suddenly quiet, everyone staring at them. All Lena can do is nod and look down before Kara smiles sheepishly and Alex pulls her away. Lena herself almost manages a quick smile, but snippets of the last few weeks practically flash in front of her eyes and so she reaches for the wine anyways, hopes no one notices.

//

Lena is almost embarrassed how much she’s been following the news lately, been following supergirl and everything she does. As much as she’s been avoiding Kara, she’s been looking out for supergirl, caring about her, worrying about her whenever she’s been in trouble. Because Lena knows who’s behind that damn cape now, that damn crest of hers, and she knows how strong said woman is, too, but whenever she looks at supergirl now, everything she can see is giddy Kara, with her bright smile and her upbeat demeanor. And despite avoiding her, she’d probably be devastated if anything ever happened her.

Lena’s supposed to hate her, she knows that, she’s supposed to be upset, she’s supposed not to care.

Instead, she cares a great deal.

Instead, she secretly begs for supergirl to help her when she hears the first crashes, the loud bangs, all over the city and definitely in her building.

The sounds alone are threatening and she can’t help but immediately feel like they’re there for her. They’re coming for her and whoever sent them (probably her mother) wants her dead. She just knows it. It’s not the first attack on her, not the first attempt of trying to get rid of her. She’s still as scared as she was the first time, but she feels more composed this time, feels that whatever is going to happen is exactly what she deserves. She’s a Luthor. Why would she ever deserve to be normal when Lex didn’t?

She, however, can’t stop her heart from racing, can’t stop herself from letting out a loud scream when they break in the doors, when they come for her. She hasn’t seen them before, but she supposes that it doesn’t matter who they are, considering they’re now defined by the guns they’re carrying anyways, the ones they’ll use to kill her.

She’s frozen, can’t move, can’t breathe. Then suddenly, she tries to run. Tries to, but one of them grabs her arm, violently pushes her to the ground.

She pretty much gives up, then. She knows that she’s strong, both mentally and physically. But she can’t keep up with people like this, not with one of them, not with a group, and not with a gun either.

She almost makes her peace when they laugh about how ‘pathetic she looks down there where she belongs’, is ready to just let them do what they need to do before they can move on, can tell her mother that the job is done, that she doesn’t need to worry anymore, that she successfully ruined both of her children.

The trigger is already pulled, bullet already in the air when Lena suddenly sees flashes of red and blue, when Kara suddenly jumps in front of her, saves her life, like she’s done so many times already, in so many ways.

She almost forgets about their fight for a second, wants to sigh in relief and thank her friend, but she soon realizes something is wrong, forgets about their fight entirely when Kara suddenly lands on the floor right next to her, gasping for air, whispering her name.

And it’s then that Lena sees that the bullet is green, that it’s kryptonite, that they used her as an easy way to defeat supergirl, knew that she’ll always, no matter what, save Lena Luthor.

//

She starts drinking again after that. Because of course she does. Because of course her mind is fogged with shame and guilt and all she can see is supergirl getting hit by kryptonite over and over again. Whenever she closes her eyes, whenever she tries to tell herself that it's not her fault. She sees Kara fall to the floor, sees her friend fall to the floor, the woman she loves, writhe and whimper in pain. And she knows it's her fault, knows nothing of this would have happened if she wasn't a Luthor, if she hadn't befriended her, if she hadn't trusted her. 

Both Sam and Alex have to deal with their own stuff, have to grieve and be there for Kara, and Lena knows she wouldn't have let them help her even if they had tried harder. 

And she wants to visit Kara, had begged for Alex to let her come with Kara right away, had sobbed and apologized profusely until she had been too weak to struggle, had let someone hold her until she could breathe properly again. 

Lena barely even remembers how she had survived that day, barely remembers Alex and some other DEO agents saving the day, saving them, barely remembers how they had brought her back to her apartment, too, how they had refused to let her see Kara. It hadn't felt fair, had made her sob only harder, seeing as she had been avoiding Kara for weeks, then couldn't even talk to her when she finally wanted to, when she was finally ready to. When it was too late. 

It's another thing she regrets, not talking to Kara earlier. Not talking to her friend, not even questioning why she had never told her, why she had kept it all a secret. 

And it's what causes her to reach for another bottle of wine now, knowing that Kara is still in a critical condition, that it's because of her. That it's her fault. That she had trusted, then hadn't trusted enough. That no matter what she did, it was always going to be her fault. 

And she's so scared, so scared that she had ruined the only chance of happiness she was ever going to get. 

Lena knows she wouldn't be able to live with herself if Kara actually died, realizes that it's hard enough already. She almost scoffs when she realizes that she's back to this again, that she's back on her floor crying, bottle of wine in her hand and Kara's balled up hoodie on her lap. The one she keeps pressed tightly to her chest every night when she tries to sleep, secretly pretending that she and Kara could have been happy together. 

She feels selfish thinking about this, feels selfish thinking about herself while Kara is suffering. Caring about herself suddenly makes her feel like a monster, like a Luthor, and so she doesn't even bother to try, to try to put the bottle away. 

When her phone rings, then, Lena jumps. 

The message is from Alex, telling her that if she wants (and they both know that she does), she can visit Kara. And suddenly Lena feels sick, wants to throw up. She's shaking, too, still not sure if she'll ever have the guts to face Kara again, in a situation that isn't life threatening and makes her want to be so, so much closer to the other woman. 

It was acceptable for her to cry in that situation, but she fears she'll appear weak if she does the same upon seeing Kara, the woman she's been purposefully ignoring for weeks, the woman she swore she wouldn't ever trust again, the woman who probably just wanted to protect her all along. 

She gets up anyways, tries to fix her make-up, puts on some new clothes and brushes her teeth. She know she has to visit her, knows she'll regret it for the rest of her life if she doesn't, knows she can't reek of alcohol when she does. Kara probably wouldn't take her seriously that way, wouldn't believe her if some emotional things just so happened to escape her lips, the ones she so desperately wanted to seal shut. 

// 

Lena doesn't even bother to text Alex back, arrives at the DEO in less than twenty minutes anyways. Her hands are still shaking when she arrives, she's fumbling with them, too, incredibly nervous, for several reasons. 

She still feels guilty, for one, still feels like Kara should despise her, should hate her for everything she is, everything she's done. She's scared that Kara blames herself, too, wouldn't ever want the girl to feel bad because of something she had caused. And then, of course, she's not sure if she can handle seeing her as weak and broken as she looked when the kryptonite first hit her, desperately hopes she's feeling better by now. She knows that Kara's still in critical condition, knows that said statement usually implies otherwise, but she just wants Kara to be okay, wants it so desperately. 

Alex seems to pick up on her nervousness right away, seems to be able to look right through the mask of professionalism she has put on, through all of the walls she had built up throughout the years, seems to see everything going through her mind. Lena almost sighs, is almost relieved when Alex takes her hand, smiles gently at her, doesn't say much as she pulls her towards Kara's room. 

"You sure you're ready?" Alex asks, then, and Lena nods, steps into the room despite wanting to run away instead, despite not actually having the guts to do so. 

And she realizes why, when she sees Kara in the hospital bed. When she sees her pale face, bright blue eyes suddenly dull, the color faded, now looking more like the countless of bruises covering her face, the ones that Alex hadn't been able to save her from, ones that turned purple and yellow and everything Lena had never wanted to see on the blonde's flawless face. 

And she looks tired, too, dark bags under her eyes, sweat stained strands of her sticking to her forehead, the rest of them carelessly sprawled out on her pillow. She's not moving, and Lena suddenly seems to realize what critical condition really means, what it looks like, starts to feel what it does to her. 

Breathing seems hard again all of the sudden, seeing Kara like this successfully pushing all air out of her lungs. Her lips are pressed tightly together when she approaches the bed, and she's already fighting the tears that are starting to well in her eyes. She manages to push the guilt ridden thoughts away for now, the sight of Kara hard enough without thinking about how she's the one responsible for this. 

She almost jumps when Kara then turns around to face her. And the blonde smiles, to Lena's surprise, despite being so weak, so fragile and broken. She smiles the brightest of smiles, the most beautiful thing she's ever seen. She smiles at the woman who caused all of her despair in the first place, she smiles and she doesn't stop. It's so genuine, so caring and loving that Lena finally lets go, lets the tears freely run down her cheeks. She smiles herself, the corners of her lips turning upwards ever so slightly when the softest of whispers escapes Kara's chapped lips. 

"You came." 

It's full of hope and Lena can't help herself, decides, in that moment, that she can forgive herself. She can forgive herself for trusting again, for trusting Kara, because looking at her smile like this, she realizes how impossible it would have been not to. 

Lena realizes that this is all she needs, that they can both get over this if they just try hard enough. And she, for her part, will. 

 

She’s a Luthor, after all. And Luthors fight for what they believe in. Which, in Lena’s case, is love.

It’s love and Kara Danvers.

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo this happened? A quick one, hope it's okay nonetheless. If there's anything you want to tell me after this, or if you just want to talk about Supercorp and how absolutely perfect they are for each other, hit me up on tumblr @superlcorp !!
> 
> Also, Comments and Kudos are highly appreciated. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think :)


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